


feel like i scored an empty netter

by escherzo



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Columbus Blue Jackets, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, holiday party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 22:19:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12993723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escherzo/pseuds/escherzo
Summary: “I hope they don’t split us up,” Luc says, for what is approximately the thousandth time.He gets repetitive when he’s drunk. Josh isn’t planning to hold it against him. Right now, he’s nestled in between five different teammates for the group photo, cozy as shit in his sweater, and on just the right side of tipsy where everything feels nice. Especially things like Luc’s arm around him.“They won’t,” Josh reassures him, and then turns his head back so he can smile for the camera. “We have a nickname and everything now.”





	feel like i scored an empty netter

**Author's Note:**

> yes this title is from the absolute classic that is the sharks' 'holiday sweater' song 
> 
> look at this cute shit man how can anyone not write it: https://www.instagram.com/p/BclLIDuloXX

“I hope they don’t split us up,” Luc says, for what is approximately the thousandth time. 

He gets repetitive when he’s drunk. Josh isn’t planning to hold it against him. Right now, he’s nestled in between five different teammates for the group photo, cozy as shit in his sweater, and on just the right side of tipsy where everything feels nice. Especially things like Luc’s arm around him. 

“They won’t,” Josh reassures him, and then turns his head back so he can smile for the camera. “We have a nickname and everything now.”

The first photo is just—cute. The second, Korpi is in front, pulling an incredible face, and it gets shown around at length. 

“This is really strong,” Korpi says, defensive, brandishing his cup. “Who gave me this, anyway?”

From the other side of the room, there’s a giggle that’s definitely coming from Bob.

“Finns can’t handle their liquor,” he says, mock-sadly, and Korpi fixes him with a determined stare and then chugs the rest of the cup right then and there. Got to defend home and country, Josh assumes, trying not to join in the giggle fest when Korpi then coughs and quickly hides his face in his elbow so Bob doesn’t see him grimace. 

Bob says something to Artemi, and that sets him off too, and then they’re both losing it. Luc’s smile has suddenly widened too. 

“Wait, do you know Russian?” Josh whispers to him.

“Yeah,” Luc says, biting his lip. “He, uh. Oh man.” He takes a deep breath and then a swig of his own drink, still visibly holding back laughter. “He gave Korpi a cup that was literally half vodka.” 

“Oh my god.” There’s some detail that Josh is clearly missing here though, once he stops and thinks about it—which is tough, okay, he’s had his fair share of the liquor too. “Hold up though, how do you know Russian.”

“Liney secret,” Luc says, holding out his pinky, and Josh links them up, nodding. “I was with this one teammate of mine in juniors and I learned it for him.” 

“ _With_ with?”

“If you’re gonna get weird about it, no?”

“I’m not gonna get weird,” Josh reassures him, because all of a sudden his face has gone closed off and anxious and it’s awful and he never wants to see that again. “I mean I was never really with anyone but I was, uh, good buddies with my lineys then.” 

Luc beams at him. “Oh good.”

“Anyway. You were saying.” 

“Zhenya—uh, Evgeni. Svechnikov. He’s in the A right now but he’s a Wings guy? His English was pretty rough at first and I’ve always been pretty quick at languages, so.”

“Still your boy?” Josh asks, because he can’t help but be curious. 

Luc shrugs. “Not really? He’s still one of my best friends and all but we got drafted to different teams, so.” 

From behind them, Artemi pipes up, “Sandwich picture?” and that distracts them both. Josh brought some jam—some hella nice jam, thanks, one of the local brands—and he saw Luc smuggle in a jar of Jif, because they are great lineys that plan ahead for this kind of shit and also have been meaning to do this particular shit for like two weeks. 

Bob calls out something in Russian as the three of them sidle off, and Artemi flushes. 

“What did he say,” Josh whispers to Luc. 

“I’ll tell you after we take the pic,” Luc says, though he’s a bit flushed too. 

Artemi has brought a loaf of bread, bless him, and the three of them pose with their sandwich-makings, smiling as Nick takes the picture. 

Luc whispers, right up against Josh’s ear, close enough to make him shiver involuntarily, “so he made a joke to Bread about us being a sandwich. In, uh. A threesome sense.” 

Oh. _Oh_. 

Artemi yells something back at Bob, and Luc trips over his translation for a good thirty seconds before managing, “he, uh. Um. Said he would be on the outside of the sandwich. Since he’s the bread and all.”

There’s a moment’s pause, and then Artemi, who Josh has suspected for a while knows more English than he lets on, puts both hands on his hips and looks right at Luc. “You know.”

Luc beams, a picture of innocence. He’s not fooling anyone though. Least of all Artemi. 

“Three months!” Artemi grumps, and then switches to rapid-fire Russian, Luc occasionally getting a word or two in edgewise but mostly just being monologued at. 

Josh tries to sidle towards Bob, but he looks at the three of them, shakes his head, and walks off towards the food table with an expression that needs no translation, because it is the universal, parental, “I am too old for this shit” look. 

He’s only like three years older than Artemi, the fucker.

“Done?” Josh asks finally, because sue him, he’s feeling kind of left out by the sudden bilingual party.

Luc nods, looks over at Artemi, grins, looks back. “Yeah. So, uh, you want to get out of here?”

He doesn’t mean it like _that_ , Josh tells himself, until he properly looks at Luc and then Artemi and realizes that they both probably mean it like that. He’s a piece of meat and the two of them are the wolves on Luc’s sweater. 

Or something along those lines, anyway.

*

The three of them crowd into the backseat of an Uber, too tipsy to care about personal space and too intrigued by the idea of being handsy to not be super fucking handsy, even though there’s a stranger driving them to Artemi’s house. It’s not a long drive, thankfully. They can only tip so much to make sure this doesn’t get out. 

(Not that there’s a local gossip page where it _could_ get out, really. This isn’t a Canadian market or New York or any shit like that)

Josh had certain ideas about norms in Russian culture, but given that Artemi, as soon as he’s in the door, strips off his sweater and throws it at Josh, he’s being forced to re-examine. 

Artemi says something to Luc in Russian and Luc nods. “Come on,” Luc says, half explaining, half translating as he takes Josh’s hand and tugs him in the direction of what Josh assumes must be Artemi’s bedroom. “He’s going to take the dog out and then join us.” 

Neither of them are super coordinated at this point, though they’re not drunk enough to have lost track of what’s going on. Small mercies, Artemi’s hallway doesn’t have anything to trip over and neither does the floor of his bedroom, and if Josh trips over nothing at all and ends up flat on his back on the bed, well. That’s more a convenient result than anything else. 

He’s out of his sweater and the tank underneath by the time Artemi gets back. Luc is still fully dressed, which is rude, and whatever conversation the two of them exchange seems to confirm the general rudeness of said proceedings if the tone is any indication. Artemi makes a motion at Luc and tugs his undershirt off. Josh has looked before in the locker room, because he’s not made of stone, but it’s nice to be allowed to be caught up in the fascination of how much smaller than he and Luc Artemi is. 

“Not middle,” Artemi says sternly, and Josh shelves fantasies about his size for later. Maybe he can be convinced; he’d make such a nice middle of the sandwich. Even if he is the bread. 

Josh takes both of Luc’s hands in his and yanks him towards the bed, and Luc squawks in an entirely undignified manner and falls on top of him. Artemi laughs, kneeling up onto the bed beside Josh and slipping his hands up under Luc’s sweater, and Luc squawks again, louder this time.

“Oh my god your hands are so cold,” he manages, trying to squirm away.

“He was just outside,” Josh reminds him, as though the ice hands weren’t enough of an indication, but really, the house is plenty warm and Luc is the only one still fully dressed, and that is stupid, thanks. “Jesus. Get naked.”

Luc nods and then turns to say something to Artemi, pointing to his hands, and Josh assumes that it is something along the lines of “warm your hands up,” judging by how Luc then rubs his hands together. Really, if Luc would stop being a baby—

Artemi sticks his hands down the back of Josh’s pants, and the “AUGH!” he lets out is entirely normal and dignified and not overreacting and oh my god his hands are so cold why 

Luc collapses against his side, giggling, and it tickles, a little, Luc vibrating against his chest, and honestly they’re all probably a little too drunk for this to be strictly advisable—not because they’re too drunk to consent, or anything, just three people takes some coordination—but he yanks his pants down and his normal-temperature hands start in on Josh’s, and he lifts his hips to help that along and then the two of them stare at Artemi until he starts giggling too and gets his own pants off. 

Luc ends up in the middle, Artemi behind him and Josh in front of him, and it’s an undignified, sweaty mess and none of them can stop laughing because the way Artemi does it is contagious, and Josh keeps rocking back into Luc, hard against his ass and the back of his thighs, a hand reaching back to try and pull him in a little harder though it’s hard to keep coordinated. Artemi leans down and bites the crook of Luc’s neck and Luc yelps, still at the age where he’s a teenage hairtrigger, and all of a sudden Josh is still hard but there’s a mess of come all over the back of his thighs. 

“Sorry,” Luc says, and Josh can _hear_ the smile, even if he’s not twisting around to see it, and Luc reaches around to start jerking him off, only to have his hand joined by a second one, Artemi’s smaller palm wrapping around the head. 

Josh isn’t a teenager anymore, but he doesn’t last long with the two assists, and though Luc pulls his hand away Artemi keeps stroking him through the aftershocks, hand slick with his come, until he has to swat his hand away because he’s getting so oversensitive he might pass out. 

“Do you want—“ He twists around to look at Artemi, who is flushed and sheepish looking, and, oh, older than the two of them he may be, but apparently he hasn’t lasted any longer than they have. Well. One of these days they’ll do more than sloppy drunken grinding and he’ll find out the limits of that stamina. For now, he’s perfectly happy to be manhandled off the bed long enough for Artemi to toss the wrecked top sheet to the side and then drag the two of them close to snuggle. 

They’re set up just like they would be on their line. Luc as their center, a big, calming presence, Artemi on the right, Josh on the left.


End file.
